Ava in Atlanta
by jillybilly99
Summary: What's an alien girl supposed to do in a zombie apocalypse? Rated M because eventually there will be Zombie killing and I'm not sure how "graphic" yet.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Roswell or Walking Dead...this is all for fun

So this is a weird idea I got a while ago and I'm going to run with it. I hope to mix in the main characters of both shows eventually, but I'm not sure when that's going to happen. So for now its just Ava in the Walking Dead "universe"

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_This cannot be happening…_Ava stumbled to her knees as she ran around a corner and found herself face to face with a line of soldiers in full body armor. She recovered quickly and stood to follow the directions currently being blasted by giant speakers into the chaos. She rushed along with her fellow refugees as they passed to the side of the very serious looking line of defense and entered a long queue hoping for entrance into the only safe zone left in Atlanta.

Her knees were scraped and bloody, but she barely even registered the stinging pain as she waited impatiently for the medical corps to pass or fail those waiting ahead of her. Behind her she felt the press of others as they pushed and surged forward as a large mass of human bodies. The sounds around her were deafening; screams and cries, mixed in with the distant sound of gunfire and explosions. She honestly didn't even know why she was trying to enter this safe zone, it was obvious that the entire city was overrun, and the only smart thing to do was flee. _But how?_ They were everywhere!

For weeks, she, along with her neighbors, had watched the news as story after story came out of the bizarre disease spreading across the globe. At first, she dismissed it as some crazy prank, but then the videos had started popping up online…YouTube had actually crashed because of the amount of "zombie-videos" being uploaded. One by one, cities went dark, no one left to run the infrastructures meant TV and radio stations were left without electricity to broadcast…the news just stopped getting out.

Then Atlanta had its first case.

The panic that the one lone figure striding down a random street caused was epic. Everyone knew what it meant, the disease was here. No one knew what to do except steal and hoard as much water and food as they could, barricade themselves inside buildings and homes, and wait for someone else to solve the problem.

Ava stepped forward when a doctor waved her as next in line and then quickly took control of his mind and made him believe he was drawing her blood, while not a drop trickled into the tube.

"Do you even know what you're looking for in my blood?" She asked testily as she forced herself to relax and pretended to feel the needle to puncture her vein. Any refusal on her part would get her nothing but a bullet to the head, as she had seen more than once. The soldiers didn't believe in quarantining the suspected anymore, just one bullet ended the chance of the disease entering the safe zone. They were desperate and paranoid.

"The CDC has been working hard at making antidotes, you're in the right city." Was the answer she got from a very tired nurse at her side. She didn't bother responding that Atlanta may be home to the CDC, but it wasn't going to do them any good.

"Go to the right and proceed straight to Decontamination." The nurse waved her through and she joined yet another queue, this one leading towards a large tent city where she could only imagine she was going to be hosed off and given new clothes in a useless effort at keeping the infection out of the safe zone.

It was the same in every safe zone she had entered since the National Guard took over the city and began the mandatory evacuations of the civilian population. First was the useless blood draw, which she had faked every time, not willing to allow her alien DNA to be taken from her…followed by blistering hot showers, clean second hand clothes probably stolen from a Goodwill or Salvation Army, and then she would be issued a cot somewhere until the government figured out there wasn't anything they could do for the people of Atlanta and they pulled out. So far, Ava had been a temporary resident of five different safe zones, all of which fell within weeks of her getting there as food became scarce and the inhabitants began getting infected.

She couldn't tell them their precautions were useless though. They would ask questions, too many questions that she couldn't answer. There was no way she could tell them that she was a refugee from an alien world, former Royalty even; one of two clones made from the DNA of a murdered alien queen. Nor could she say that the one who had murdered her, and her husband, had developed the very disease ravaging her new home planet as a weapon in his Revolution against her husband's government.

They would either think she was crazy, and shoot her because psychiatric help was clearly out of the question in this apocalyptic present and a quick end was the kindest option, or they would believe her and shoot her because "her people" had caused this mess. Or the third option was they believe her and then ship her off to be a guinea pig in some underground CDC lab in a last ditch effort to understand the disease…as if her biology had anything to do with what was going on. It didn't.

She couldn't believe she was living through this again…but this time she was alone. No husband, no friends, no one who even knew who she really was, _what_ she really was. She thought about the others as she walked into a women's tent-locker room stripped off her dirty clothes with about fifty other women.

Was Roswell infected? Were Max and the others even in Roswell anymore? Almost ten years ago she had left her doppelganger's group behind, forced to make her way alone when Rath and Lonnie's plot to kill Max had been thwarted after he refused to go along with their plans at the intergalactic conference in NYC.

Growing up in the sewers of New York City, she had believed the claim that _they _were the real Royal Five, not the group in Roswell. _She _was Ava, Zan was her husband and the true king of Antar, Rath and Lonnie the real reincarnations of her sister-in-law Princess Vilandra and her betrothed. The others were just copies, clones of a clone, Plan B, flawed and too-human but a necessary backup. It didn't even matter now…Kivar had won his ultimate victory. Was the real king her Zan or Max in Roswell? _Who cares…_Zan was killed a decade ago by his supposed best friend and Max, if he still lived, was probably running and hiding from hordes of hungry "dead heads". Earth was finished.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Roswell or Walking Dead...

Sorry for such a long break between updates, but here is something new finally. I actually thought I already uploaded this chapter but I guess not.

Chapter 2

Ava waded through the mass of people waiting to get into the main area of the safe zone, those in charge of the place looked frazzled and unsure of what to do with the thousands that had come from the latest zone to close just a few hours before. They were overrun and they knew it, but their sense of humanity had kept them from turning the newcomers back, even though they should have.

She had only come with the others because it was easier at times to go with a group than strike out on her own, especially when there were flesh eating monsters on the loose. Ava had a highly developed sense of survival, inherited from her previous incarnation, Queen Ava.

It had taken years of intense mental training; everything from meditation, hypnotherapy, and even a few past lives support groups, but eventually she had regained what she could only hope were the majority of her former self's memories. No great gaps where information _should_ be, but it was hard to know for sure how much was still missing. Ava the 1st had been clever and very adept at survival.

Although she was raised in a very luxurious household, one of the elite of Antar society, she hadn't had a very loving family and had learned at a young age how to spot someone worth avoiding. She had been a great judge of character, and had single-mindedly gone about cultivating her acquaintances and friends always with an eye for who could one day be useful, or not.

It had been shocking for Ava to remember so much about her former self, and realize that all that she had been told about the "biddable" and "loyal" Queen Ava had been nothing more than a front, a self-made mask created especially for the King to see and wish to possess. She saw her younger self in New York City through new eyes and grew disgusted with how weak and pathetic she had been; always trying to be _Queen Ava_, the sweet and innocent Miss that had never actually existed on Antar.

Now, though, she was who she was always meant to be. A survivor.

When Kivar had released the poison on Antar, all those years ago, he had done it on an isolated island. A popular vacation resort for the Upper Class, during the height of the season…in one attack he had eliminated most of the loyal supporters of the King and secured his own position as leader of the revolution.

This attack on Earth was different, though. She remembered Kivar from before…

_"__Ava! You know it has to be this way," Kivar grabbed her arms and pulled her towards him in a tight embrace. "He'll never be a good king...and he'll never be the type of man you need." He kissed her then, dragging her into the shadows in the palace gardens where they met often, and secretly._

She let the echoes of that long ago time wash over her as she walked sedately through the crowds around her. Ava knew that her sister-in-law was blamed for the king's downfall…she remembered the riots and flaming Vilandra-effigies hung throughout the capital city when her betrayal had become common knowledge. No one ever knew it was the _innocent _Queen Ava who had once played two men against each other in a desperate hope to somehow come out on top with the victor. Within two weeks they would be dead, her mother-in-law's plan of resurrection put into motion, but she remembered the chaos and panic of those last days.

Kivar didn't want to take over Earth. This attack wasn't politically motivated…it was punishment. Zan had lived, despite Kivar's best efforts to destroy him, Max must also have continued to survive, and Kivar wanted Zan/Max to pay.

Ava passed through a large metal gate, and into the main area of the safe zone. Tens of thousands of people occupied this area, roughly four city blocks large, all squeezed together in what would become a bloody massacre if anyone "turned" while inside. It was bound to happen, too. Ava scanned the crowds and then made her way across a parking lot and towards what was once a bank.

Armed men and women sat on the sidewalk out front of the large building, the windows and glass doors had large iron stair railings bolted and welded over them. It was obviously being used as a headquarters of some sort, and just might be full of the type of people that Ava needed to get allied with…survivors.


End file.
